


Actions Speak Louder

by chimchar



Category: Everyman HYBRID
Genre: Fairmount Kids - Freeform, Heavy Angst, Mental Illness, Mining Town Four - Freeform, Past Child Abuse, Past Sexual Abuse, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Self-Hatred, Sometimes a family is five children the demon living in one of their heads and their psychiatrist
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-05-06
Updated: 2018-05-05
Packaged: 2019-05-02 15:20:48
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,311
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14547624
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chimchar/pseuds/chimchar
Summary: Over the years, Habit has got himself into some odd situations, but nothing quite trumps becoming the accidental guardian of four children slated for death.





	Actions Speak Louder

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _I’m sure glad you’re not so annoying. I would’ve given up and let the big ol’ stick-in-the-mud kill you if I didn’t kill you myself_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I accidentally gave Evan a catchphrase...I’m proud to say that catchphrase is him politely telling Habit to shut the fuck up. Politely, primarily, because he’s 8 years old...it’ll probably evolve...

It was not the first facility Evan had been placed into and he doubted it would be the last. It was, however, the nicest one by far he had stayed at in quite some time. If he could thank his Father for anything, Evan decided, it would be for having enough money to ensure he wouldn’t end up in the same sort of trash places he’d ended up in when the state was the only one in charge of his care.

He followed a nurse down a long hallway of rooms trying to push thoughts of his Father out of his mind as they reached a door near the middle of the hallway. That man wasn’t really his Father, he’d never had anything to do with him.

”That’s the spirit bud!” A voice said in the back of Evan’s mind. 

 _‘Be quiet Habit...’_ he thought, scowling and hoping his message was recieved. It was always more difficult to communicate with Habit when he wasn’t speaking out loud.

The nurse smiled at him and told him if there was anything she could do to make his stay more comfortable to let her know before leaving Evan alone in the little room that would now serve as his own. Evan smiled back out of obligation more than anything else. He knew she wasn’t being so nice to him for any reason other than her own obligations. Her words weren’t very comforting knowing that.

”You’re getting better at reading people,” Habit remarks. “I’m honestly kind of surprised.”

Evan would have glared, but it was hard to glare at someone who resided in one’s own mind. “Be quiet.”

Habit laughs. “Someone’s in a mood.”

Evan scowls, crossing his arms across his chest as he plopped down on a small, white blanketed bed. “Be quiet. If they see me talking to you again I’ll get in trouble.”

Habit scoffs, but doesn’t offer a reply. Evan internally thanks him, laying down on the bed and staring up at the ceiling. This place was the same as everywhere else he’d been sent — he probably wouldn’t be here for long anyways — so what was the point of trying to familiarize himself with the surroundings? They were both foreign and familiar and would be replaced by a different facility eventually.

The door opens again, Evan barely reacts. He just wants to rest. He almost hopes it was a mistake, but the door clicks shut and footsteps walk towards the bed.

”Hello there, Evan?”

Evan squeezes his eyes shut and lets out a sigh before correcting the man who had entered. “Habit. Not Evan.”

He hears the rustle of paper and the familiar sound of pen on paper. “Habit? Is that a nickname then?”

”No,” Evan responds almost immediately, flinching as Habit lets out another bout of laughter. “I am Habit. That is my name.”

”Alright then, Habit, would you like to stand up?” The man who walked in asks. 

Evan rolls on his side towards the wall. “No.”

More pen on paper. “That’s just fine. My name is Dr. Corenthal, for the next few months I’ll be in charge of your treatment. You’re aware what we’re treating?”

”Schizophrenia,” Evan sighs. “But I don’t have schizophrenia.” He pauses. “And traumatic stress. And...homicidal tendencies, but those aren’t mine.”

”Would you mind explaining what you mean by that?” More pen scratching on paper. Evan hates that sound. Habit hates it more. Habit wants to take that pen and jab it through this idiot doctor’s stupid fucking —

“You wouldn’t get it,” Evan snapped, sitting up despite what he had said a moment ago. “Nobody gets it.”

Dr. Corenthal is a younger man than most of the other doctors Evan has had. He’s wearing a very nice suit that Habit eyes excitedly. He’s thinking about how fun it would be to take this man over, but Evan doesn’t even pause to wonder if he will. Habit hasn’t taken anyone over in years, not since Evan’s Mother got sick.

”You’d be surprised,” Dr. Corenthal chuckles, sitting down in a chair opposite Evan’s bed. “Now that you’re sitting up, do you think we can talk properly?”

”Will you have to keep writing down everything I’m saying?” Evan asks. He pauses a moment, before deciding it’s probably best he doesn’t inform this man if he continues, Evan will very likely want to stab him. “It’s irritating.”

The Doctor reaches into his pocket and there’s a soft click sound. Oh, he’s recording this. “Alright Ev— Habit, I don’t have to write anything down. I’d just like to know more about you, what do you like to do?”

Evan is silent for a moment. “Nothing.”

Dr. Corenthal raises an eyebrow. “Nothing?”

”Nothing,” Evan repeats. “Playing alone is boring and playing with other kids doesn’t ever go well. So I do nothing.”

This seems to concern Dr. Corenthal, though that’s to be expected. “Is there anything you think you’d enjoy doing, if you could?”

”End this conversation?” Habit suggests tiredly. “And take a nap?”

Evan ignores him, he’s become very good at that. “I’d like to go home. I’d rather do nothing here than there.”

”And when you say home, do you mean with your Father?” Dr. Corenthal asks. “Or are you referring to...”

”My real home,” Evan clarifies, clearly irritated the man would suggest anything else. “With my Mom.”

Dr. Corenthal nodded. “Of course. Do you have good memories with your Mother?”

Evan hesitated for a moment before nodding. “She was very nice. She’s not crazy like everybody says, she didn’t think things that weren’t true or see things that weren’t there.”

Dr. Corenthal seemed troubled by his answer, Evan could see it all over his face. This entire conversation seemed to trouble Dr. Corenthal to some degree, though Evan didn’t think he’d said anything all that bad. “I’m sure you’ve heard this before, but I am very sorry for your loss. We’ll talk more about her at a later date. Is there anything else you’d like to tell me about yourself?”

Evan shrugs. “No, I’d rather take a nap. I didn’t sleep very well last night.”

Dr. Corenthal sounds disappointed. “Alright, though before I go I’d like to be sure we’re clear on the rules of this facility.”

Evan let out a low hum of acknowledgement, though he didn’t really care about these rules. Habit would break them anyways, it didn’t matter.

”We take medication at either 9:00 AM or 9:00 PM depending on what your doctor — in your case, myself — asks of you. Taking your medication is not a choice, but is mandated while you are at this facility for your own wellbeing. Breakfast is at 9:30 AM and can either be eaten in the dining room with others or will be brought to you room. Lunch is at 1:30 PM and like breakfast you can either go to the dining room or it will be brought to you. Dinner is at 6:00 PM, same situation as before applies. If it’s observed you’re not eating your food, measures may be taken to ensure you remain healthy,” Dr. Corenthal sucks in a breath before continuing. “Violence of any kind is not tolerated towards anybody. If you feel threatened or have been hurt, inform myself or one of the nurses at once. We ask that you remain polite to caregivers and your fellow patients for as long as you remain here, do you have any questions?”

”Those are dumb rules,” Habit comments. Evan continues to ignore him, laying back down and facing the wall.

”No questions.”

The Doctor says something else, but Evan tunes him out. He’s relieved when the door clicks shut again.

Habit laughs. “That guy sure seems like a bundle of fun.”

No, he just seems like every other doctor who has tried to trick Evan into talking about his feelings.

”Be quiet, Habit.”

 

* * *

 

In Evan’s dreams, his Mother is not only alive, but is happier than he had ever seen her. She smiles and waves when she sees him. It’s a real smile, for once. There are no dark circles under her eyes and there isn’t a trace of grey in her black curls.

”Evan!” Evan. He’s Evan, not Habit. The last few months, she’d be unable to differentiate between the two. “Come on sweetheart, it’s time to go home!”

He runs to her, of course. She grasps his hand in her own and they begin to walk towards the little house Evan grew up in. The paint is not chipped. Flowers are growing around the front porch. Evan doesn’t think it was ever this nice, not even before it was burnt to the ground.

Evan is sorely disappointed when he wakes up before he can see the inside.

He is not in bed, but rather sitting cross legged in the grass leaning up against a brick building. He’s not even surprised.

”It’s almost lunchtime,” Habit informs him. “We got a late breakfast after you fell asleep, it was horrible. I threw the tray at the nurse who served it to us.”

”We’ll get in trouble,” Evan sighs. 

“You’ll get in trouble,” Habit corrects, his tone souring. “I’m ‘just a hallucination’ according to these people.”

Evan frowns. “You could always just show them you’re real.”

”Damn, you’re real suicidal for a kid,” Habit laughs. “I’ve told you, I’m not going anywhere for a long time. If I did, you know what would happen.”

Evan digs his nails into the dirt. “He’d find me. Where are we anyways?”

”Courtyard,” Habit responds cheerfully. “Everywhere else is full of screaming little brats, man, I’m sure glad you’re not so annoying. I would’ve given up and let the big ol’ stick-in-the-mud kill you if I didn’t kill you myself.”

The courtyard is small; it’s made up of only a large willow tree and a small beat up picnic table. Evan decides almost immediately that he likes it.

”Are we allowed to be here?” Evan asks. 

”Yes,” Habit replies. “I think so at least. Nobody stopped us from coming out.”

”That doesn’t mean we’re allowed—” Evan started, but shut his mouth immediately at the sound of a doorknob turning.

He completely froze, pressing himself flat against the wall. Habit was going to get him in trouble again, wasn’t he? Dr. Corenthal never went over what kinds of punishments he’d endure, Evan only hoped they weren’t as bad as his last home...

It wasn’t an adult that walked out, but rather a sad looking boy with dark hair and chubby cheeks. He didn’t even give Evan a second glance before speed walking to the picnic table, sitting down, and opening a book.

”That kid,” Habit cackled. “Is about one wrong move away from a panic attack.”

”Be quiet, Habit,” Evan muttered back. He thought he had been talking quietly enough, but the boy spun around regardless. He looked just about as alarmed as Evan felt.

”I don’t know you!” He exclaimed, slamming his book shut. “I don’t not know many people.” He furrowed his eyebrows. “That sounded strange...Oh I’m sorry, you look confused. Am I not making sense? I’m Vincent.”

Evan stood up, smiling awkwardly, and edging towards the door. “Nice to meet you Vincent.”

“What’s your name and why are you here?” Vincent asked, seemingly unaware of Evan’s dicomfort. “I have post traumatic stress. And I’m too trusting. Dr. Corenthal says there isn’t really a diagnosis for that last one, but I’m working on it regardless. Do you have Dr. Corenthal? He’s very nice.”

Evan stared, trying to process the bombardment of questions. What finally comes out is: “Err..anger issues?”

“Wrath is a sin,” Vincent promptly informs him. “‘Be not hasty in thy spirit to be angry: for anger resteth in the bosom of fools.’ That’s Ecclesiastes 7:9.”

Evan tiled his head. “Some old guy named Egglestes is saying anger rests in my butt.”

Evan doesn’t think he’s ever seen someone look more offended than Vincent in that moment. “Ecclesiastes. It’s a bible verse.” He paused. “But...yeah, that’s sort of what it means.”

”Wow, this kid is annoying,” Habit laughs. “Good thing we’re all alone. He looks easy to overpower.”

Evan pushed any lingering thoughts of murdering Vincent aside. “Good to know, I guess.”

Vincent stared at his feet, suddenly looking very crestfallen. “I’m being annoying again, aren’t I? The Doctor said I should stop carrying this around with me everywhere.” He held up his book, which Evan realized was a bible. “But I just can’t.”

He looked so sad, Evan couldn’t help but comfort him. He walked over to the picnic table and sat across from Vincent, much to Habit’s dismay and annoyance. “You’re not being annoying. I don’t know anything about religion, I’m just not used to it.”

Vincent scrunches up his face. “Your parents didn’t take you to church?”

Evan shrugs. “My Aunt tried once. Her Pastor thought I was possessed.”

Vincent burst out laughing, but then his face went stony serious. “You’re not though, are you?”

”Not all the time,” Habit replied at the same time Evan says “Of course not.”

Vincent returned to grinning. “Well, glad to hear that. What did you say your name was again?”

”Call me Habit,” Evan said immediately. “Only Habit.”

Vincent’s eyes got wide and his lips curled up into a smile. “Oh, you’re Evan. I’ve been waiting a long time for you.”

Evan tenses up. “What?”

”The Man,” Vincent explains. “He told me we’d end up together at some point. Someone took you from him, he doesn’t like sharing. He wants you back.”

Habit didn’t often take over when Evan was conscious. The feeling was so foreign, he didn’t notice he no longer had control over his body until it was too late.

Habit crosses Evan’s arms. “You and I are going to have to have a chat, aren’t we?”


End file.
